The Life and Lassitude of Belinda King
by Suz Singer
Summary: "I am both worse and better than you thought." - Sylvia Plath. Indie King is a traveling reporter for one of the most popular online newspapers, always chasing her next big story, never staying in the same place for more than a few weeks. When she's waylaid in Bon Temps during Drew Marshall's killing spree, Indie quickly finds she has no choice but to stay.
1. Prologue

The Life and Lies of Belinda King

 **Prologue**

 _It is the opinion of this reporter that it was not a vampire who killed three women in the small town of Bon Temps, Louisiana. Maudette Pickens, Dawn Green, and Amy Burley were undoubtedly connected to vampires, yes, but there is no evidence to connect a vampire to their murders._ The reporter paused at her computer, taking a sip of her cola. _Instead, I believe that it is a man - yes, a human man - with a horrible grudge against vampires murdered these young women._

"So ya gonna stay all day again today?" A voice cut into the reporter's focus. She reluctantly looked up at the perky blonde waitress who hovered at her table.

"Is that a problem?" the reporter asked, glancing at the waitress's nametag that identified her as Sookie. "Is someone waiting for the table?" she continued, glancing around the near-empty bar in an exaggerated fashion. "Oh, I guess not," she concluded, turning back to her laptop on the table in front of her.

Sookie grumbled under her breath. "Well, can I at least get you something?" she asked.

The reporter shook her head. "I'm still trying to digest breakfast. I'm good," she dismissed quickly, even though her stomach _had_ begun rumbling about a half hour ago. But Sookie didn't walk away. The reporter sighed. "Look – I've got a deadline to meet and I just find it easier to get my work done when there are other people around. If I stay in my motel room, I can't get nothing done," she explained.  
"I see," said Sookie. "I'll leave you to it, then, but only if you promise to let me know when you need something," she added.

The reporter nodded vigorously. "I promise." she said, going back to her computer and began to type away. _More startling however, was the murder of Adele Stackhouse, an elderly matron of Bon Temps and highly respected in her community. Ms. Stackhouse was stabbed to death while the other victims were strangled – and she had only one foreseeable connection to vampires. Ms. Stackhouse welcomed a vampire from who had fought in the Civil War to speak at her organization – The Descendants of the Glorious Dead – which is devoted to honoring those who fought in the war. The only reasonable assumption I can draw is that Adele Stackhouse was not the killer's intended target. I cannot say why he killed her. And before you challenge my claims – I find it statistically unbelievable for there to be a second killer in a town consisting of less than 3,000 people._

 _But again, I must reiterate that it is impossible for Adele Stackhouse to have been murdered by a vampire. Her blood was spilled, unlike the other victims, but not a drop was missing, per a source within the Bon Temps Police Department. The fact that no blood from any of the victims was consumed makes it unlikely a vampire was involved. An anonymous vampire source stated that a vampire would consider that a great waste as well as find it very difficult to curb their appetite and_ _ **not**_ _consume the blood._

Sookie approached the bar, glancing back at her strange patron with furrowed brows. Sam polished a glass on the other side of the bar, glancing to Sookie with a curious expression. "Did our strange customer give you any details?" he asked.

"About what?" Sookie asked in reply, setting down her tray on the empty bar and sliding onto a barstool.

"She was askin' me a couple days ago about Maudette, Dawn, and Amy. And your Gran, Sook." Sam answered in a hushed tone. Sookie's jaw dropped. "She must be a reporter or something, asking the type of questions she did. Wouldn't tell me her name, though,"

Sookie dipped her head in acknowledgment. "She did tell me she had to meet a deadline. I hadn't thought much of it," she admitted. "I wouldn't have pegged her as a reporter,"

Sam shrugged. "She's too young-lookin'. Looks all of twenty, if that. Those big eyes…" he agreed, glancing across the bar to the young woman. Her eyes were admittedly large, and her short dark hair was twisted into messy twin braids, her long and skinny limbs, and her unpainted face all contributed to a rather juvenile image – making her look much younger than she really was. Sam knew she was older by the intensity of her hazel eyes, the intelligence of her questions. "But you and I both know we can't judge a book by its cover," he added after a thorough perusal of the reporter.

Sookie nodded in agreement, all the while giving Sam a chastising look. "Keep your dirty thoughts to yourself, Sam Merlotte! That girl's a little younger than me, and younger than _you_ by a mile!" she chided.

Sam snorted. "Just admirin', that's all, Sook. No need to swat me," he retorted. "Wait – can you hear her thoughts?" he asked suddenly.

"I hadn't tried," Sookie said, turning towards the young reporter. "I've been getting better at blocking them out," she continued, focusing her mind towards the young woman before she gasped.

"What is it?!" Sam asked eagerly.

"She's thinking about the murders! Jason-" Sookie began, overcome with emotion. "She's certain he didn't hurt any of them. Oh Sam – her thoughts are moving so fast I can hardly follow," Sookie pulled back, frankly finding the reporter's mind dizzying.

"So she's a smart cookie, eh?" Sam said, grinning. Sookie nodded, leaning back against the bar. "Maybe she'll exonerate him," he suggested.

"Oh, I hope so," Sookie breathed.

 _The Bon Temps Police are looking at one suspect in particular – Jason Stackhouse, the high school football star and all around playboy in town. Jason is the grandson of victim Adele Stackhouse, and has been connected romantically to all three of the other victims. He personally discovered each victim's body except for his grandmother._

 _The circumstances_ _ **are**_ _compelling, I won't deny that. But they lack that_ _ **one**_ _necessary thing – evidence. Jason Stackhouse is consistently in the wrong place at the wrong time, but that does not make him a killer._ The reporter took another dainty sip of cola. She squirmed a little, the need to urinate beginning to become urgent – but she couldn't stop writing when she was on such a roll.

 _What the authorities here in Bon Temps fail to take in account is that Jason Stackhouse is as dumb as a rock, if I'm blunt. The police here should know that, in such a tiny town, that someone like Jason Stackhouse is not smart enough to murder several people and leave no evidence behind. If Jason_ _ **was**_ _smart enough to do this, he certainly would not be returning to the scene of his crimes and incriminating himself. I apologize, Jason, if you read this and are offended at my words. I write them in your defense. You are being framed._

 _So now I speak directly to the Police Department in Bon Temps. I can tell you where to look. Where my suspicions lie. I do not know who killed the women in this small town. If I did, I would be coming directly to you. But here it is – the killer of your townspeople is someone who is close to all the people specifically mentioned in this article. He knows Jason Stackhouse. He knew Maudette Pickens, Dawn Green, Amy Burley, and Adele Stackhouse. People of Bon Temps, you know the killer. He is close to you. He probably does not present himself as a vampire-hater, and is relatively new to town._

 _The killer finds it morally reprehensible for people to associate with vampires and associates these innocent people as traitors to their race. If you have a relationship with a vampire, I advise you to take care. I do not mean to tell you to stay away from them, but instead to know that you may be a target because of it._

 _Hear me now, faithful readers. Vampires have the same capacity for good and evil as we humans do. Just because they bear more power than us does not make them evil. Keep in mind that old adage – "With great power comes great responsibility."_

 _It goes for all. Humans with great power. Vampires. All of us are held to this standard. Do not forget we humans have an equal capacity for acts of great evil and have proven it, time and time again._ The reporter re-read her last line several times before she was satisfied with it. After giving it a quick once-over, she emailed it to her editor before closing her laptop and springing up from her seat to visit the bathroom at long last.

* * *

 **This is an idea I've been working on for a long time! And it's sort of a different style of writing for me. I'm eager to hear your thoughts! Please Review!**

 _edited 1/12/17_


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Pamela Swynford de Beaufort sat at the bar in Fangtasia, idly reading on her tablet. Fangtasia hadn't yet opened tonight, and Eric was busy in his office – so Pam was forced to entertain herself. She clicked into the Apollonian Press site, which happened to be Pam's _favorite_. It was controversial, unbiased, and uncensored.

The biggest draw to the Apollonian Press was the "Oracle". She – well, it was _assumed_ that the Oracle was a she, but no-one knew for sure. The Oracle was a completely anonymous reporter traveling the country on reporting on stories _she_ found interesting. Seemingly mundane topics, small-town stories all spun into intriguing articles that _actually_ inspired action. A death-row inmate she'd written about two months ago had his case re-opened and was acquitted a mere six days before his scheduled execution. A company who had been dumping toxic waste into a town's water source was shut down and its executives charged with gross misconduct.

The Oracle's column was Pam's favorite as well – it was juicy, honest, and sort of bitchy. She had even called people morons in her articles, which immediately endeared her to Pam, but also likely made her some dangerous enemies.

The Oracle's icon on the website – laurels behind a woman's silhouette – glowed red against the site's cream-colored background, signifying the Oracle had posted a new article. Pam quickly clicked on it, eager for her newest fix. "No fucking way," Pam remarked dryly when she read the article's title – ' _The Bon Temps Killings_ '.

She stood as she began to skim the article, her feet taking her down the hallway to Eric's office. Pam entered without knocking, much to her maker's irritation. She handed him her tablet without ceremony. "I assume you've heard of the Apollonian Press?" Pam asked.

Eric's brows furrowed as he looked at the screen. "Yes, of course. It's the most popular growing online news press in the US," he answered absently, already beginning to read through the text.

"Well, the Oracle's done us one hell of a favor," Pam retorted, hands on her hips.

Eric was silent for a few moments, reading the article thoroughly. Once done, he set the tablet down on the desk in front of him. "What I find more concerning is that she cites anonymous vampire sources." Eric said grimly. "She's here in my area, and someone talked. Call a meeting. I want every vampire in the Area here tonight," he ordered.

* * *

The reporter sat at Merlotte's bar, nursing her third or fourth shot. Her mind was already pleasantly fuzzy. She only indulged in alcohol on the night one of her articles came out. So she wouldn't have to think about how the public would respond. She didn't want to know, didn't really care. It was the investigation she liked, the thrill of the hunt, so to speak.

The bar's proprietor, Sam Merlotte, stood in front of her on the other side of the bar, drying a glass. It was late, only about a half-hour before last call. Only she and Sam were left in the bar. He eyed the reporter curiously. "Do you think you can tell me your name now?" he asked unexpectedly. The reporter flashed him a reproachful look. "What's the harm? I already know you're the Oracle," he continued, pouring her another shot when she gestured to the empty glass. He'd been taking shots with her, but he'd stopped somewhere around the second or third.

She gave him a hard look. "Cassandra," she said grudgingly.

Sam rolled his eyes. "There's no reason to lie," he said.

"Can't help it," she retorted, throwing back her shot.

"Try." Sam requested.

The reporter leaned in, and Sam couldn't help but follow suit. "I'll tell you my name if you promise not to tell a soul," she whispered.

"Promise." Sam agreed eagerly. First, she tapped her nail on her empty shot glass. Sam sighed and poured another shot. "Maybe you should think about slowing down,"

The reporter merely flashed him a sulky look before throwing her fifth shot back. "The name's Indie," she finally tells him, her words starting to slur.

Sam smiled. "I like it. Indie," he said, testing it out. Indie slid her shot glass back towards him. He sighed. "This is the last one and I'm cutting you off," he warned, pouring the shot. Indie snorted, snatched the glass and threw it back. "Shouldn't you be happy? The police have already released Jason Stackhouse. You've exonerated him and vampires in general," Sam asked, pouring himself a shot.

Indie snorted. "Want to hear another secret, Sam Merlotte?" she slurred. Sam nodded after he took the shot. "My work is dangerous." She started. "Especially in tiny towns like this. I'm the only other new person in town besides the Vampire Bill."

"So?" Sam asked, beginning to feel the effects of the alcohol he'd ingested.

"So I'm on the killer's radar now, if I wasn't before. So that's why I'm right _here_ ," Indie said, gesturing at the bar in front of her. "In public. Not alone. He can't get me if I'm not alone,"

"I won't let him hurt you," Sam promised.

"How are you going to do that?" Indie asked. "Stay with me all night?"

"If I must," Sam responded, his heated eyes catching hers.

Half an hour later, Sam and Indie drunkenly stumbled out the back of the bar and towards his trailer – oblivious to the eyes on them.

* * *

Eric Northman stood on his stage at Fangtasia, before all the vampires in his area. They had all assembled within two hours, murmuring amongst themselves. They wondered why they had been called.

Eric held up Pam's tablet, showing the homepage of the Apollonian Press website. "According to the newest article published by the Oracle, 'An anonymous vampire source stated that a vampire would consider that a great waste as well as find it very difficult to curb their appetite and **not** consume the blood _.'_ " Eric quoted, lifting his eyes from the tablet to the vampires before him. "Someone spoke to this reporter. I demand to know who." he commanded.

Pam stepped onto the stage to stand at her maker's side. "Confess now and all you will lose are your fangs," she said in a monotone voice, her hands on her hips.

After a moment, a young vampire of only fifty years stepped forward, away from the others. His name was Kai, a young man (when he was turned) of Hawaiian descent. Eric had known him to be kind, if not naïve – he immediately knew that Kai had spoken in innocence, not of malicious intent.

"Show him to my office, Pam." Eric ordered, and the two vampires quickly moved down through Fangtasia and into the offices. He turned his gaze back towards the other vampires assembled before him. "And there is no-one else that spoke to a human about the murders in Bon Temps?" he asked.

All the others shook their heads, but one female vampire did step forward. Vittoria – one of few vampires in Eric's area that he respected for pure integrity. "I promise, on my honor, that I have spoken to no such human," she stated, her Italian accent still thick.

Vittoria was over six hundred years old (and nearly sixty when she'd been turned), but she had not left her native Italy until fifteen years ago, when she came to live in Eric's area. Eric had once asked her why she'd chosen to come to Shreveport of all places, and her answer had been simple. Vittoria has been trying to track down her descendants for ages, and had finally tracked them to this area. After the Great Revelation, she'd been able to approach the family and become a part of it. Vittoria had everything she wanted, so Eric could trust her ambitions – or lack thereof.

"I never doubted you, Vittoria," Eric responded, curious as to why she had spoken.

"I have a theory to express," she stated, stepping free of the crowd to approach him. Eric impatiently gestured for the other vampires to leave, and they did with great eagerness. He stepped down to the stage near her. "It may be baseless, Sheriff," Vittoria admitted.

"If you deem it important, I would hear it," Eric replied.

Vittoria inclined her head, acknowledging the esteem in his words. "Kai _may_ have spoken to a human, but it does not necessarily mean it was the Oracle. I enter another theory," she began. "Perhaps the Oracle _is_ a vampire, and is unable to admit it publicly – and she knows what she wrote through personal experience," Vittoria suggested.

"It is a stretch," Eric admitted, taking it into consideration.

"But not impossible." Vittoria interjected.

"But we will never know if we do not _find_ the Oracle," he retorted. Vittoria nodded in understanding, and began to leave. "Vittoria," he called, making her pause. "I greatly appreciate your respect and integrity," she merely inclined her head again. "You know, Pamela has always hated being my official second-in-command. If I were to release her of the position, would you be interested?" Eric asked.

Vittoria's brows furrowed in surprise. "I would be honored to, Sheriff, but there are other vampires more deserving than I," she replied.

"Ah, but I trust your integrity far more than I trust their ambition," Eric retorted.

"As you wish, Sheriff," Vittoria said. It was clear she was not displeased, by the little smile that toyed at her lips.

"Please return tomorrow evening before Fangtasia opens so we may discuss your duties," Eric requested. She inclined her head again before leaving.

Finally, Eric headed for his office where Pam and Kai waited for him. " _You-_ " he pointed to the young vampire, "-will help us find the Oracle," Eric concluded with a grin.

* * *

 **Here's the second chapter! Please Review!**

 _edited 1/12/17_


	3. Chapter 2

_FYI: Please go back and re-read the Prologue and Chapter 1. Minor things were altered to fit the story. Notably, Indie's ALIAS was changed, and what happened with Sam. Any questions, please ask._

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

When Indie woke the following morning, her head felt thick and ached like she'd been run over by a car. Her mouth was dry and her tongue felt like cotton, adding to the general sickly way she felt. It was a struggle to even open her eyes and get them to focus on her surroundings. Obviously, she'd had about six drinks too many.

As the room came into focus, Indie took note of the cramped bedroom around her. It was painted a most unflattering yellow, and the blue of the bedsheets clashed with it terribly. ' _Where the hell am I?'_ Indie wondered in a latent sense of alarm. It took her a few moments to take stock of herself. She didn't feel odd other than her obvious hangover. Indie _wasn't_ fully-dressed – she was down to her bra and panties, but a man's t-shirt _had_ been put on over them. She wasn't sure what to make of that.

Indie sat up in search of her clothes, and _immediately_ regretted it. Her head started pounding with the force of a jackhammer. She groaned, cradling her head in her hands, waiting for it to taper off before attempting to move again.

Once her headache had tapered to a mere dull throb behind her ears, Indie swung her legs off the bed slowly, inching towards the edge. On the floor by the bed was her scattered clothing. Indie tried to use her toes to catch the clothing and pull it closer, as any movement of her head or neck made her head burst with sharp pain.

By the time she'd secured her jeans and began to pull them on, Sam Merlotte appeared in the open doorway. He laughed at the sight before him. "Let me help you, cher," Sam said, causing Indie to recoil from the noise. She groaned loudly as Sam bent in front of her to collect her clothes and put it within easy reach next to her on the bed.

"What happened last night?" Indie asked as she took off what she assumed to be Sam's shirt and put on her own.

"Uh, well, you got completely skunked, and I probably should have cut you off, but I wasn't too far behind you there. We, uh, made out, and came back here, and you passed out not long after. I came to my senses right about then, and went to sleep it off on the couch. I promise nothing happened," he explained, staying crouched in front of her.

Sam's voice seemed obnoxiously loud, though she was sure it was due more to her hangover than him actually yelling at her. "That's good news," she said finally, shrugging her jacket on and slipping her feet into her sneakers. What else was there to really say? Her memory of last night was a blank slate.

"Are you hungry? If you're nauseous, I can make some dry toast," Sam offered kindly. He straightened to his full height once Indie was fully dressed and seemed a bit more relaxed.

"No, thank you, I just want to go back to my motel," Indie said quickly, standing only for the room to spin around her. It was only Sam's hand grabbing her arm to hold her up that kept her knees from buckling.

"You're not going anywhere if you're this unsteady, Indie," Sam said, starting to guide her out of the bedroom to sit at the counter just outside the door. Indie's expression showed that she was less than pleased. "I get it, okay? You just want to get out of here, but I wouldn't feel right letting you go off when you can hardly stand up. Have a cup of coffee and some dry toast and see if that makes you feel better. Alright, Indie?"

She fixed him with a glare that could melt the flesh off the bones of weaker men. " _Cassandra_ ," Indie corrected icily.

Sam sighed, throwing his arms in the air. "We're alone! No-one's going to hear your nickname!" he grumbled, pouring her a cup of coffee and sliding it over to her.

"I don't want you to get in the habit. This is the first time in nearly a year that I've slipped. Protecting my identity is my first priority, Sam," Indie retorted, taking a sip with a grimace. She rarely drank coffee or caffeine of any kind, adhering to a strict straight edge life style – all except for one night a month when she "celebrated" the publishing of a new story.

Sam loaded the toaster with a few slices and turned back to her, sighing again loudly. "I understand that, In- Cassandra," he caught himself, and she nodded to him appreciatively. "Your nickname's unique, though, and I haven't the slightest idea what your proper name is, or your last name. Your identity is safe from me, I think," Sam informed her.

"Good." Indie said, taking another reluctant sip of coffee. The pounding behind her ears was already starting to lessen. "You need to understand, Sam. There are people out there that are devoted to finding out who I am for sport – I don't care so much about them. Then there are the people who want to find me because I fucked them over when I wrote about them – _they're_ dangerous. They'd hurt me, Sam. I have parents, and these people wouldn't hesitate to use them against me," she explained seriously.

Sam sighed – _again_. Indie was beginning to think that's all he ever did. "I get it. I'll never let that nickname pass my lips again. You're Cassandra Thorne and I've never known you as anything else," he said.

"Thank you," Indie said.

"I'll have to mention this to Sookie," he said absent-mindedly, grabbing the toast as it popped from the toaster and sliding it to Indie.

 _"What?_ " Indie choked on her coffee, looking at him incredulously.

Then it seemed to dawn on Sam's face what he said, so he quickly explained. "Your waitress. She knows you're a reporter, and she's sharper than she seems. She might make the connection, and she might say something absentmindedly. If I let her know you're in hiding, she won't say anything,"

"If you have to." Indie said, massaging her forehead carefully. She took a tentative bite of the dry toast, and when it didn't make her stomach roar with nauseous fury, she continued to nibble on.

After that, they stopped talking. Indie didn't mind, forcing herself to eat as quickly as she could without making herself sick. But Sam seemed uncomfortable in the silence, constantly shifting, and clearing his throat a few times. She simply ignored him.

Once she'd finished eating, Indie hopped off the stool and went in search of her purse. She found it in the bedroom, in the same general area her clothes had been scattered. She emerged to find Sam standing at the door, ready to let her out.

"Well, I'd say I had a blast, but… I really don't recall," Indie remarked blatantly, watching a wince cross Sam's face. He knew it'd been a shitty idea for him to bring her back to his place, especially since they'd apparently messed around for a little while. "Thanks for making sure I was okay," she said as an afterthought, stepping through the front door.

"Yeah, anytime." Sam said. "If you need anything, let me know,"

Indie nodded as she hopped down the steps, giving a quick wave to let him know she'd heard. She crossed the gravel parking lot in a hurry, approaching a beat up red SUV. Sam watched until he saw she'd gotten into her car, and then went back inside to get ready for work.

Sam didn't see the black truck pull out after her.

* * *

Within a few minutes, Indie was pulling into the motel parking lot. Right now, she didn't give a shit about anything but getting back to bed. Sam had dragged the morning out much longer than he'd needed to. She was grateful he'd taken care of her, but at the same time, he should have cut her off so she wouldn't have needed him to.

After she'd parked, Indie grabbed her bag and fished out the motel key from her purse before getting out of the car. Once she had it in hand, she got out and headed for her room on the end of the small strip of motel rooms. Indie unlocked her door and went inside. She set her things down on the table next to the door before turning back to lock it. She never got there.

The door burst open, smacking Indie in the chest _hard_. She let out a surprised cry, flung to the floor with the force behind it. She caught a glimpse of a tall, swarthy man whose expression was creased with fury before he kicked her in the stomach with his steel-toed boots, quickly cutting off the scream building in her throat. With that, he turned and closed the door, flicking the lock home.

"What do you _want_?!" Indie managed to gasp out, her body curling from the pain radiating from the hits she'd taken.

René Lenier, one of Jason Stackhouse's friends and coworkers, stood over her. "I'm the Bon Temps _Killer_ , bitch," he hissed, punctuating each word with a kick. A howl ripped from Indie's mouth before he silenced it with a kick to the bottom of her jaw, causing her to bite her tongue with a savage force. She began to choke on the blood spilling from behind her lips, until another well-placed kick turned her to let the blood dribble onto the floor. "You _exposed_ me," René growled, crouching down next to her face.

The edges of Indie's vision were beginning to dim, and blackness spreading. René reached down and gripped her by the jaw and _shook_ , and agony spread through Indie's jaw and downward like flames licking at a log. "I wouldn't have bothered you if you hadn't written that stupid article. Now you're going to die, _bitch_ ," he said, punctuating the last word with an aggressive shake of her jaw, drawing a strangled whimper from her throat. "Regrets?" René taunted.

Indie drew in a long breath, ignoring the stabbing pains. If she was going to die, she wasn't going to do it lying down. _"Fuck_ you!" she growled, the words escaping her throat feeling like broken glass. She managed to expel the words with a gob of blood into René's face.

The swarthy man cursed furiously, jumping to his feet and returning her insult with another kick to her ribs. René didn't stop at one, or three, or six. Somewhere in the middle, Indie had felt something crack inside her, and suddenly she could hardly breath from the pain.

"All that attitude ain't gonna save you, _bitch_. No-one's gonna find you till it's too late," René rasped, nudging her head with his boot. He laughed, watching Indie try to curl into a position to ease the pain, finding only that moving at all made it ignite. René left then, making sure to hang the 'Do Not Disturb on the door before stepping out.

Indie lost consciousness not long after.

Unfortunately, her respite from the pain didn't last long enough. Judging from the scarce light filtering between the closed shades, it was late afternoon bordering on sunset. Indie knew better than to try to move. The mere shift of her head had made a white-hot agony travel from head to toe. Her breathing was labored and painful – she had broken ribs at the very least, if not punctured a lung.

Indie needed medical attention or she would most certainly die. She couldn't yell for help, her jaw too swollen and painful from René's kick – he'd probably broken her jaw too. She'd been able to insult him, but she'd been motivated by spite, then.

She resigned herself to waiting to die. What else could she do?

When the rays of sunlight were long gone, there came a knock at the door. A sudden hope lit in Indie's chest. She strained herself, no matter the pain, to force out a sound from her throat. Unfortunately it came out a whimper as weak as a newborn kitten's.

The door slammed open regardless of Indie's weak noise, missing her by centimeters. A pale face swam before hers, framed with long, blond hair. She could hear voices conferring in another language.

A cold hand brushed her face and Indie recoiled as a sharp pain jolted her wide-awake. She recognized the face before her. "Well, well, well," a low voice said. "the Oracle's _already_ in trouble. Did one of your enemies find you?" Eric Northman asked, voice silken and taunting.

His long and graceful fingers trailed down Indie's face, either oblivious or uncaring of her pain. "Tell me your name, Oracle, and I might be convinced to save your miserable life," Eric demanded, his eyes drawing Indie's into twin pools of dizzying blue.

The words began to crawl up Indie's throat of their own volition, but they were unable to pass her severely bitten tongue and swollen jaw. Eric made a frustrated noise. "Fine, fine," he said in reply to a low buzz of a voice that Indie could not even comprehend at the moment. He found her eyes again, drawing them in with a force she couldn't understand. "The moment you are healed enough to speak, you will tell me your name." he ordered, before lifting his wrist to his lips. He bit down deeply and brought the dripping appendage down to dangle above Indie's mouth.

* * *

 **Please Review! I'd love to hear your thoughts!**


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

It was well after midnight when Sam remembered Indie. Remembered the black truck that looked just like Jason Stackhouse's had followed her beat-up red SUV out of the parking lot. Remembered Indie telling him how dangerous her work could be. "Shit," Sam cursed, jumping out of his bed to get dressed and dart to his car.

Sam drove like a maniac, tearing down the country lanes – tailgating with no regrets until he pulled into the motel parking lot within a scant six minutes. He immediately sighted Indie's car parked in front of the room at one end of the motel strip. Sam quickly pulled into the empty spot next to Indie's car and jumped out, heading to the room on the end with a "do not disturb" sign hanging on the knob.

Sam knocked and waited for a moment, hoping against all hope that Indie had merely hid away for the day. That she was perfectly fine. There was no answer. So he tried the doorknob. Unlocked. He eased it open carefully, and was immediately assaulted by a multitude of scents.

Indie's, most strongly. René's too, as Sam had feared. And the smell of death. Vampires. The scene inside the room was just as disturbing as the scents – blood was spattered liberally on the carpet directly in front of the door, on the bedspread, on the walls. But no Indie. " _Fuck_ ," Sam said, kneeling besides the largest bloodstain and pressing his fingers to the edge. It was still wet and most certainly Indie's.

Sam stood and closed the door. He drew out his cell phone and dialed a familiar phone. He waited for a few moments before the other person picked up. "Yeah, I'm sorry to disturb you this late, Sook. I know today's been a shitty day for all involved, but-" he was cut off by a yawn on the other end. "This is important, Sookie. Remember the reporter? What I told you about her? René got to her. I'm standing in her motel room and there's blood everywhere, but she's not here. I was hoping you could bring Bill by, see if there's something y'all can find,"

" _We're on our way, Sam._ "

* * *

 ** _REWIND_**

Eric Northman sat at his desk inside his office in Fangtasia. Vittoria, his new lieutenant, stood at his back. Pam lounged on the red leather couch opposite them. Kai sat nervously in the chair in front of the desk.

"Tell me now, Kai. How did the Oracle approach you?" Eric asked. His solemn expression and tone of voice left no wiggle-room for the young and carefree vampire.

Kai cleared his throat nervously – a human expression of anxiety that he had yet to break himself of. "I'd just struck out with Verona," he began, referring to another vampire of the area that they weren't quite familiar with. "I've liked her ever since we met, but-"

"Get _on_ with it," Pam groaned behind him. "If I have to listen to another word of your wimpy-"

"Pamela." Eric interjected. "Kai, please get to the point," he added, secretly glad Pam had interrupted Kai's ramblings.

The younger vampire nodded immediately. "Well, she approached me, and offered to buy me a Tru Blood. I told her I wasn't looking for a human for the night, and she wasn't offended. We got to talking – she introduced herself as Cassandra. She seemed like a tourist. Curious, but kind," Kai explained.

"What did she look like?" Vittoria asked.

Kai shrugged. "Like a normal human. Young, dark-haired, skinny," he answered.

The Italian vampire wrinkled her nose, finding the information not useful. "Might you have surveillance footage of her?" Vittoria suggested to Eric, who immediately turned to his computer.

"What day was this, Kai? What time?" Eric questioned, fingers moving at "vamp" speed to bring up the surveillance software.

"Hm, let me look," the young vampire said, taking out his phone to browse the calendar. "Ah, yes. It must have been the 13th. The next day I left the area to visit relatives. It was about midnight or one when we spoke," Kai answered.

Eric did not reply, attempting to find the right time. He motioned for Kai to come look at the screen. "Oh – there she is," Kai pointed out instantly, motioning to a booth near the corner of the screen. Of course it was Kai who faced the camera, not the Oracle.

Eric fast-forwarded the footage until the two got up and the camera caught the woman's face. "Pam. Come take a look," Eric ordered.

His progeny rose and came over, taking a precursory glance at the woman on the screen. "Ah, I remember her. Her ID said Cassandra Thorne. Twenty-three and native to Arizona," Pam recalled from her "vault".

"An alias?" Vittoria wondered.

"Almost certainly. Call the surrounding hotels and motels, locate her," Eric ordered as he stood. He glanced at Kai. "Now for your punishment," he said, making the young vampire gulp in horror.

* * *

Indie woke suddenly, as if snapping from a trance. Not unlike the last time she woke, she wondered just where the hell she was. But this time she didn't feel so miserably. Indie was completely alert – finding herself laid out on a red leather couch in a black-and-red decorated office.

She didn't know what time she was, but judging by the color scheme she had a suspicion as to where. Her skin felt taut and dry, covered in dried blood that she marveled at. Other than that, Indie felt _good_. Stronger than she had in years.

Indie stood and sidled to the door cautiously, listening for movement on the other side. But all was quiet. She tried the knob, but found it locked. That was the moment where she descended into out-and-out panic – being enclosed in a small space for reasons unknown to her.

That, and a bout of mild claustrophobia, deeply entrenches Indie in the throes of a panic attack. All she could think about is how she was trapped, how she couldn't get out, how she _needed_ to get out. And then she was able to calm herself down. Indie slid down against the door to sit on the floor, closing her eyes. "This is a panic attack. It isn't real," she reminds herself, though those words have never really worked. But counting did.

"1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15…" Indie began softly, keeping her eyes closed tightly. She counted until 173, when she felt calm enough to stand. She went back to the couch, seeing the water bottle and protein bars left beside it for the first time. Indie opened the water and took several long draughts before starting on a protein bar.

After several hours of boredom and snooping, Indie heard the lock on the door click. And the door opened, revealing Eric Northman. She looked up from her seat on the couch as he stood in the doorway. "What am I doing here?" Indie asked. The question wasn't asked with attitude or fear, but confusion. It prompted Eric to answer.

"I found you when you were gravely hurt. I gave you my blood to heal you. I did not think leaving you where you were would be wise, so I brought you to my bar-" Eric began.

"Fangtasia," Indie interrupted, ignoring the vampire's irritation. She'd deduced it from the décor, _and_ some of the snooping she'd done.

"So you're familiar," it wasn't a question.

"I've been here a few times before," Indie offered.

"I know." Eric responded.

Indie rolled her eyes. "Thanks for the blood, I guess. Can I go?" she asked.

"Not before we talk,"

She sighed. "What do you want from me?" Indie said.

"What makes you think I want something?" Eric retorted, strolling into the office and sitting on the corner of the desk.

Indie lifted an eyebrow. "Two things – one, you're a man," she began.

Eric acknowledged the point with a dip of his head. "And two?" he inquired.

"Two, because you brought me here. Gave me your blood. You wouldn't do that for a stranger for no reason."

"You're not wrong," Eric admitted.

"So then what do you want?" Indie repeated.

"I want the Oracle to owe me a favor. Several, in fact." Eric stated bluntly. Indie raised her eyebrows, unable to hide her surprise. But she played along anyway.

She rolled her eyes. "Half the appeal of the Oracle is that I'm unbiased. If I stick to your interests, well, I'm being biased," Indie remarked. "Then there will be nothing for you to benefit from," she suggested.

"What do you mean?" Eric asked, immediately intrigued.

Indie huffed. "I mean, I have access to information you could only dream of. And vice versa," she said. It was clear through his body language that Eric was interested. "Do you think we can hold off on the negotiations until another night? Frankly, I'm not in the mood," Indie asked before Eric could reply. He was visibly displeased. "After all, I nearly died. I'm too _emotional_ ," Indie tacked on, with a mixture of truth and sarcasm.

"Alright." Eric said unexpectedly. He leaned in closer, his intense gaze fixing on Indie. "But you cannot go without telling me your true name. It was promised to me before I healed you," he demanded.

Indie rolled her eyes. " _Fine_ , since you saved my life," she huffed. "My name is Belinda King, but I prefer to be called Indie,"

Eric smirked. "See, that wasn't so hard," he said in a condescending tone. Indie muttered under her breath, and his grin only widened. "I'll show you where you can clean up before leaving. Do you need transport?" he asked, gesturing to the door.

"That would be great," Indie acknowledged, standing and starting towards the door. "Seeing as my car is still at the motel,"

Eric led her out of the office and into the main bar to reach the restrooms – only to find Pam, Sam, Sookie, and Bill waiting near the door. "They insisted on coming in. They're looking for _Cassandra_ , here," Pam remarked, cutting her eyes at Indie.

* * *

 **Thank you for the reviews! Please continue to review!**


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

* * *

 _Eric led her out of the office and into the main bar to reach the restrooms – only to find Pam, Sam, Sookie, and Bill waiting near the door. "They insisted on coming in. They're looking for_ Cassandra _, here," Pam remarked, cutting her eyes at Indie._

* * *

"Cass! Oh my god!" Sam cried in alarm, starting towards her. Indie took half a step back. Eric immediately noticed, noting the distaste that flickered through her expression – so he growled. Sam immediately paused, glaring at Eric. "What did you _do_ to her?" he demanded in outrage.

Eric actually looked amused. "It was René," Sookie spoke up, face swollen and purple from her battle with the same man. " _Eric_ saved her life," she added, eyes fixed on Indie. Bill and Sam looked at her in shock. Sookie approached Indie and took her arm, concern clear in her gaze. "Are you alright?"

Indie nodded, not sure what to make of Sookie. How could she have known that? "I want to go back to my room," she said, knowing that above anything, she wanted to get back to her belongings and clean up.

"You can't stay there, Cassandra. You shouldn't be alone after what happened. You did a very brave thing, and I'd be honored for you to stay with me," Sookie remarked. Bill said her name quietly, clearly disapproving, but Sookie ignored him.

"You can stay with me," Sam said, though the tone of his voice implied there was really no choice.

Indie managed to keep a miraculously straight face, hiding that that was the last thing she could possibly want. Sookie managed to see right through it, her blue-eyed gaze fixing on Indie with a laser-focus. "No offense, Sam, but I can't think of a-" Indie started, tone caustic, only for Sookie to interrupt.

"I think it's better she stays with me. You know how girls are," Sookie said, laughing nervously.

But Sam insisted. He had good intentions, of course. He was the person Indie knew best in the area. But he failed to realize it was the reason Indie didn't want to be near him. He'd made piss-poor decisions in a position of power over her. Sam had exploited that power over Indie when he'd taken her back to his trailer when she was black-out drunk. The fact that he's stopped just before it became rape didn't make him a good guy like so obviously thought he was.

"Sam." Indie said, catching his attention mid-bicker with Sookie. "I don't want to stay with you. So stop." she suggested.

Sam looked stunned, taking a half-step back. He was obviously confused by her words and reaction to him, but Indie didn't have the energy or desire to console him. "You should leave." She said.

Sam's jaw worked, eyes tracing over Indie's features. He turned on his heel and left, but not without shooting Eric a glare. Indie had found the vampire's silence surprising, glancing over at him and finding his gaze just as curious fixed on her.

Sookie took Indie's arm, quietly asking if she was ready to leave. Indie nodded and let the blonde begin to guide her towards the exit. "It's been a pleasure, Miss... _Thorne_. I expect you back in two nights' time." Eric's voice called. Indie turned her head to catch his eyes and nodded, signifying her agreement.

"Come on," Sookie said gently. "I'll take you to my house," she continued as they left the vampire bar.

"But my things-"

"Bill will go and collect them for you. Won't you, Bill?" Sookie asked, her tone daring the vampire to disagree. Indie found her respect for the blonde building. Bill quickly nodded, though his expression was quite clearly reluctant.

Bill handed Sookie his car keys as they reached a small, dark but clearly expensive car. "Don't you want me to drop you off at least?" Sookie asked her boyfriend.

Bill shook his head. "It'll be quicker if I just run and meet you at the house," he replied. He kissed Sookie delicately, inclined his head to Indie, and then sped off into the night.

Sookie and Indie climbed into Bill's car and set their course for Bon Temps. After a few minutes of silence, Sookie glanced over at her passenger. Indie sat very stiffly, trying not to move much and flake blood everywhere in a vampire's car.

"Is it alright if I call you Indie? I know you're trying to hide, but..." Sookie requested, and Indie looked at her with surprise. After a moment, she nodded.

"Did Sam... tell you?" Indie asked.

"That you were hiding, yes, but not your name-" Sookie rambled on.

"Then how could you-" Indie started, before her eyes widened. "Are you telepathic? Is that _possible_?" she questioned.

Sookie nodded, expression cautious. "I guess that's what I oughta call it. I swear I wasn't trying to pry, I just hear things. I sorta knew who you were the first time I waited on you at Merlotte's," Sookie explained.

Indie looked at her with wide eyes for a few moments more before turning her gaze to her hands folded in her lap. "I guess I should thank you for not saying anything," she said finally.

"I promise I won't ever," Sookie gushed immediately. "The things I hear are rarely ever things I want to hear repeated out loud! I know. I know now how sacred you hold your anonymity, and I wouldn't do anything to endanger that, or you," she promised, never taking her eyes off the road.

"As long as you keep your word there, we're good," Indie acknowledged, smiling back when Sookie shot her a grin.

Sookie's expression quickly turned serious. "That being said, there's something I gotta ask you," she began carefully. Indie turned her head to look at her curiously. "You reacted funny when you saw Sam, heard him talk. What I felt... it was like you got scared?" Her tone was questioning, full of dread.

"So?" Indie asked, voice full of false bravado. She tried to keep her thoughts light in case Sookie was trying to listen in, but the blonde didn't seem convinced.

"Please just tell me he didn't hurt you." Sookie requested, seeming anxious. Indie was silent, trying to decide what to say. "Sam's a good man, I can't imagine he'd ever - but I saw something in your head and I just can't let it go-" Sookie rambled on until Indie cut her off.

"I drank too much. He knew it, he served me. Should have cut me off. But he was drinking too. Not as much as me, but still. I don't remember a hell of a lot f that night, but I do know he shouldn't have taken me back to his trailer." Indie began, catching the horrified look on Sookie's face. "It didn't go as far as sex, Sookie, I swear. When I woke up, my underwear was still on. But it was close, too close, for me to feel good about it," she continued.

"Motherfucker!" Sookie cursed under her breath. "That's still assault, Indie! You want to go to the police station?" she asked.

Indie shook her head. "No, Sookie, I want to forget about it. I know Sam didn't mean to," she answered.

"If he assaulted you, Indie, you can't let him get away with it!" Sookie insisted.

Indie didn't look away from the window. "No, that would tie me down more than it would help me. I'm good, Sookie, okay?" Indie said, glancing over at the blonde finally. Sookie pursed her lips and nodded. "I just never want to see that asshole again," the brunette added, leaning her head against the cold glass of the window.

"Are you sure you don't need the hospital?" Sookie asked quietly.

"The vampire blood took care of that," Indie said quickly.

"But-"

"Sookie, _please_."

Sookie sighed. "Alright. Just know that if you change your mind…"

Indie didn't reply, pressing her forehead harder against the window.

A few minutes later, Sookie pulled into a long gravel drive leading to a rather rundown white house. Bill was standing on the porch, Indie's bags at his feet. As the two women got out of the car, he picked them up.

"Bill, would you mind taking the bags up to my old room?" Sookie requested. "Ind-" she began, and Indie looked at her sharply. "-Cassandra's had a bad time of it, and I'd like to get her settled in right away," Sookie corrected herself. Bill gave her an odd look, but entered the house without a word.

Sookie guided Indie into the house and straight up the stairs. "I'd give you the tour, but I figure you want to get cleaned up right away," she remarked, and Indie acknowledged this with a nod. "So the door on the right here is the bathroom, and the one across the hall right here is the room you'll be staying in. I can give you the tour when you're feeling like it, but feel free just to explore," Sookie said. She gestured towards the door on the left that Bill just emerged from.

Indie immediately entered the room and went through her bags to find some clean clothing. Behind her, Bill and Sookie were saying their goodbyes for the night. "I'll call on you tomorrow," Bill said softly, and Sookie murmured something low in response.

When Bill was gone, Sookie was left to stand awkwardly in the hallway. "I'll go down and fix something for you to eat while you get cleaned up," she remarked.

"You don't need to go to the trouble, I'm not hungry," Indie said, a bundle of clothing clutched to her chest.

"I didn't ask," Sookie retorted, breezing out of the room and down the stairs.

With a puzzled expression, Indie shuffled out of the room and to the bathroom. She set her clean clothes on the counter and immediately undressed from the ruined clothes. Under the sink, she found a garbage bag to throw them in. Then she turned on the shower and turned on the spray.

Indie luxuriated under the spray for a while, using Sookie's sweetly scented shampoo, conditioner and body wash to rid herself of the grit, smell, and taste of dried blood. When she stepped out, she quickly dried off and dressed in her clean clothes – a pair of grey sweatpants and a faded old t-shirt.

She returned to _her_ room, she supposed, the garbage bag of ruined clothes in hand. She tossed it into a corner and moved to set recover her electronics. Her phone and computer had been carefully packed, Indie acknowledged. She wasn't sure what to expect, since Bill clearly hadn't been happy to carry out Sookie's order. Indie set up her electronics on Sookie's vanity – plugging in her laptop and phone.

It took a few minutes for her phone to load up – it had completely died in the time it lay abandoned in her motel room. She had several unread messages – the normal ones from her editors, congratulating her on her latest story and inquiring about her next; and a few from her parents. Indie's parents had been trying to reach her and convince her to come home to visit for a while now, but she hadn't made the time. Indie quickly tapped out a message to her mother – _will call tomorrow_ – before locking the phone and leaving the room.

Indie descended the stairs just in time to hear glass break and then Sookie curse loudly. She followed the noise and found Sookie leaning over the sink, blood dripping from her palm. As Indie approached, she saw shards of glass in the sink. "Are you alright?" she asked.

Indie's sudden appearance startled Sookie, causing the blonde to jump. "I'm fine, just sliced open my hand here," Sookie said with a sigh.

Indie sidled closer and took Sookie's hand, peering closely. "Do you have a first aid kit?" she asked, pulling a towel from its rung and pressing it into Sookie's hand firmly, ignoring the blonde's wince.

"Under the sink," Sookie answered as the younger woman guided her to sit at the kitchen table. Indie retrieved the white tin from under the sink and carried it over to the table. She dragged the stool from the corner to perch on it in front of Sookie.

Indie pulled the towel from Sookie's hand and looked at it carefully. "You need stitches," she said. Sookie cursed, muttering about going to the hospital – clearly displeased. "I can do them, if you want," Indie offered.

"Really?" Sookie asked in surprise. Indie nodded. "You were trained? By real doctors?" Indie nodded again. "Wow," Sookie acknowledged in wonder.

Indie rifled through the first aid kit, setting out the things she needed. "Both of my parents are doctors," she admitted. Of course, the aged kit didn't have the same supplies doctors used nowadays, but there _was_ a needle and thread that would do. Indie sterilized the needle with an alcohol swab.

"That's amazing! They taught you to do this?" Sookie asked. Indie nodded, preparing her things while the blonde applied pressure to the wound.

"My father considered certain things, like _this_ , necessary for _every_ person to know. And if you don't – you're an imbecile." Indie explained, setting the needle and thread on a washcloth to keep it clean. "So he taught me, of course, though he wasn't a very good teacher. Sad, since he works at a teaching hospital," she continued, taking the towel from Sookie and started to clean the cut.

"And your mother doesn't agree?" Sookie asked, wincing at Indie's thoroughness with cleaning the wound – the alcohol, the pressure, air hitting it. She was trying to focus solely on Indie's words to ignore the discomfort.

Indie snorted, her expression amused. "No, she finds him intolerable. So do I sometimes," she confessed. Sookie looked confused. "They divorced when I was three," Indie explained as she began to stitch the wound.

Sookie yelped. "I'm sorry, that must have been hard," she says through gritted teeth.

Indie shrugged. "I don't really remember them as a couple, so, I can't say I miss it. But if you knew them, Sookie, you'd see how much of a mismatch they are. They're both very strong-willed – my mother's more conventional, my father's a rebel, and well, an ass. But they loved each other, a lot. And they're good parents," she explained.

"That's nice to hear. No-one gets divorced down here, even when they probably should," Sookie admitted.

"Well, this is the deep south. That doesn't surprise me," Sookie flashed her a look. "Didn't mean it that way," Indie mumbled, concentrating on the task. "Did I mention they still work together? Actually, my mother is my father's boss," she offered to distract Sookie.

The blonde took in the gossip eagerly. "Wow! That must be crazy!"

Indie nodded. "Well, that's the way it's been since before I was born. They've made it work. Always supported me, kept me separate from their shit instead of putting me in the middle," she acknowledged. "Haven't seen 'em in a couple years. Been traveling for the job, haven't stopped to see them,"

Sookie had started to look at her strangely. "Don't get me wrong, Indie, I'm glad you're telling me this, but it seems out of character for you to be this open," Sookie remarked.

"You're not wrong." Indie said. "You're a mind-reader, don't think it would be much use trying to hide it from you,"

Sookie acknowledged the point with a nod. Indie finished the stitches, cleaned it up, and bandaged it carefully. Sookie murmured her thanks.

"Anyway, I'm thinking about going home to visit for a little while. After everything that's happened," Indie commented.

"That sounds like a good idea." Sookie said as Indie cleaned up the mess on the table, and then came to sit at the table next to her.

"I have to see Eric before I leave. He said to come back in two nights," Indie remarked.

Sookie flapped her hand. "Don't worry about him-" she began.

"I gave him my word, Sookie. I don't go back on it." Indie said sharply, taking the blonde by surprise. Indie took a deep breath, brushing a wet lock from her face. "I'm really grateful you've taken me under your wing here, Sookie. That's why I'm saying this. Things ain't safe here. Not for people who are different. I'm going to fly out the morning after I meet Eric. I think you should come with me," Indie said, reaching for Sookie's uninjured hand.

Sookie stared at her in shock. Without meaning to, she could feel Indie's earnest intentions. "Come with you!?" she sputtered. "I can't leave Bill, or Jason, or-" she began before being cut off by the sudden intensity of Indie's thoughts. She _desperately_ wanted Sookie to come, so she didn't have to be alone, that Sookie was the only person she had right now. Sookie looked at the younger woman carefully, watching how Indie's expression grew wary with Sookie's gaze focused on her.

"Why don't you want to go home alone?" Sookie asked, taking Indie by surprise.

Indie looked stunned, her jaw dropping open. She stuttered for a moment, and Sookie heard a name pass through her mind – _Celie_ – and a baby's face accompanied with despair. "I haven't been home in years, I – I –"

"You'd feel better if you had someone with you," Sookie said, interrupting Indie in a moment of pity. She tried to stay out of the brunette's mind, feeling like she had stumbled into something intolerably private. She didn't bring up the baby, sure that Indie would withdraw or become even more upset.

"It wouldn't be long. Just a few days, maybe a week – just to get away, appease my parents," Indie said, changing the subject.

"Does that mean you're staying in Bon Temps?" Sookie asked hopefully. She didn't know Indie very well, but she liked her. Cautious and shy as she was.

Indie nodded hesitantly. "I think it's time I stay in one place. At least for a little while. Plus…I have the feeling there are many stories I could write about here," she explained.

"Well, just let me think about it for a little while. I'll let you know by tomorrow," Sookie promised.

* * *

 **Thank you for the reviews! Please continue to review!**


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Early the next morning, Indie woke up feeling alert and refreshed. Absolutely rearing with energy. She almost never felt that way, so it took her a few moments to figure out why. The vampire blood she'd received from Eric Northman had probably been a large dose. Its effects had not only healed Indie, but given her more energy and vitality.

Indie decided to go on a run to burn off some of that energy. She used to love it, but hadn't had the time in ages. She dug through her bag and dressed in a pair of running shorts and exercise tanks, and then laced up her running shoes.

As she jogged down the stairs, she remembered poor, sweet Sookie and knew the blonde would be worried if Indie was nowhere to be found. She went to the kitchen and found a scrap of paper to write a note on and stuck it to the fridge before leaving.

Indie started down Sookie's gravel driveway without any real plan of where to run, or how long.

The wind whipped at her hair and face as she ran, and Indie gloried in the feeling. Her anxieties melted away with each step.

Indie used to run all the time. She was in track and cross-country in high school, and then college. Only because she ran. Because it made her feel so _free_. But Indie hadn't run at all in months, because of her constant travels.

Indie ran all the way to Merlotte's, where she decided to double-back. On the second half of her run, a collie trotted beside her. Its sudden presence made her uncomfortable. She stopped a few times to try and shoo the dog off, but it only licked her fingers. When she started running again, the collie followed. So Indie ignored the dog.

When she got back to Sookie's, she immediately went inside and grabbed some water from the kitchen. Indie emerged with a tall glass for herself and a bowl for the dog, a towel slung around her neck. Indie set the bowl down on the ground and then reclined on the steps, sipping her water. She watched the sun rise over the horizon, filling the sky with reds, oranges, and yellows.

The dog drank from the bowl for a little while, before he wandered off into the wooded area. Indie drew a sigh of relief. She'd never been a pet person. A minute or two later, a naked Sam Merlotte came out.

Indie scrambled to her feet in alarm – it didn't take long for her to connect the dots. "What the _fuck_!" she screeched.

Sam threw his arms up in a gesture of surrender, trying to placate her. "Please, I just want to talk," he pleaded as she flung her towel at him to make him cover himself.

"Sam, this is _so_ inappropriate. I don't want to talk," Indie replied, moving towards the front door to go inside. She could see Sookie coming down the stairs, rubbing her eyes as if to rub the sleep out.

Sam sprang forward, grabbing Indie's arm to stop her from going inside. "Oh come on, cher," he cajoled.

Indie ripped her arm out of his grasp, furious that he would lay a hand on her. "I've been clear, Sam. I don't want to _talk_ to you. I don't want to _see_ you. So why don't you just _fuck_ off," she hissed.

Sookie had paused at the bottom of the stairs, staying just out of sight unless the other woman needed her. Sam sighed, keeping his hands carefully at his sides. "Can't you just tell me what I did wrong?" he asked, voice plaintive.

Indie's expression remained unmoved. Angry. "You might not have had sex with me that night, but it was _way_ too close. I was all-but unconscious, Sam, but you thought it was a good idea to bring me home instead of calling a cab," she said, her jaw gritted tightly.

Sam's face crumbled. "I was drunk too-"

"I don't care." Indie cut him off. "Just leave me _alone_." she ordered before stalking inside without another word to Sam _or_ Sookie in passing.

Sookie slipped outside as Sam dragged his hands through his hair, leaving it stuck up in different angles. "Why didn't she tell me that she felt like that?" he uttered in a low, shamed tone.

Sookie shrugged, rubbing her hands up and down her arms. "I don't know, Sam. But everything… has been really overwhelming for her. I get the feeling that she's used to living like a hermit. A lot has happened in a really short amount of time. You, René, Eric-"

"Don't even mention my name with theirs, like I-" Sam interrupted, only for Sookie to cut in.

"Took advantage of her?" Sookie asked, a blaze to her eyes. "It's kinda what happened, Sam. What she feels like happened."

When Sam turns back to look at Sookie, there were tears in his eyes. "I swear I didn't mean to hurt her, Sook," he said quietly.

"I know that, Sam." Sookie said. "But you need to keep your distance. That's all Indie wants. You're lucky she's not going to the police. She wants to leave it behind. All you gotta do is back the _fuck_ off, you got me?" Sam nodded reluctantly. "Go home, Sam." Sookie ordered.

Sam started down the porch steps, but hesitated on the last one. "If I can do anything…"

"I'll let you know." Sookie said instantly before leaving Sam on the porch as she went to check on Indie. She found the younger woman in her room, gathering her clothes calmly, almost robotically, to go shower. "Are you okay?" Sookie asked softly.

Like a switch had been thrown, Indie hurled everything onto the floor. "What the _fuck_ was that! What is _he_?!" she cursed.

Sookie reached for her to offer comfort, but Indie flinched back. Her arms fell to her sides, eyes keen on Indie's face. "Sam's a shape-shifter. He can turn into animals, like a dog," Sookie explained.

"He followed me on my run, Sookie!" Indie exclaimed, pointing out the upsetting nature of her encounter.

Sookie seemed to agree, but also wanted to defend her friend and boss. "He was probably just trying to make sure you were okay,"

" _Fuck_!" Indie cursed under her breath. "He doesn't even know me! He's just fixated on me since I _don't_ want to see him! That's all!" Her breathing was getting faster and faster, until she seemed unable to control it.

Sookie closed the distance between them, placing her hands on Indie's shoulders. She quickly saw that Indie was past all sense and logic. All she could sense from Indie's mind was a flurry of images, words, and sounds that was overwhelmed her. She couldn't imagine how Indie dealt with it.

" _Indie_!" Sookie said sharply, clapping her hands down hard onto the younger woman's shoulders. The unexpected sound and sensation was enough to distract Indie from the blind panic inside her mind. Her gaze shot up to find Sookie's, startled eyes wide. "You are _fine_ ," Sookie said with absolute certainty. "So let's calm down, _please_ ,"

The words seemed to work. All the tension drained from Indie's body, dropping into a slouch. She sighed lowly. Sookie could sense Indie returning to herself. After a few moments, Indie straightened and pulled away from Sookie. "I'm going to shower." The younger woman said.

Sookie shot her a surprised look. "You don't wanna talk about what just happened there?" she asked in disapproval.

"No, no I don't," Indie replied firmly. She gathered her things from the floor, where she'd dropped them earlier. "Thank you, though," she said over her shoulder, as an afterthought, as she left the room.

"Alright then, I guess I'll just make breakfast!" Sookie called back in faux lightness. She sighed, dragging a hand down her face. The younger girl was already more trouble than Sookie had expected, but could she _really_ judge? Indie probably thought the same of her. Sookie left the room and trotted down the stairs toward the kitchen.

Once Indie had emerged from the shower, she dressed in a pair of jean shorts and a dark t-shirt, before descending to meet Sookie in the kitchen. "Sit," Sookie directed firmly, pointing a wooden spoon at the kitchen table as she scurried around.

Without argument or comment, Indie sank into the chair, moving to rest her head on her hands, letting out a low sigh. "So you like to run, yeah?" Sookie asked, directing the conversation away from Sam Merlotte and hopefully all other upsetting things of that nature.

Indie hummed in acknowledgement, nodding in thanks as Sookie brought her a cup of coffee. "Ever since I was a teenager. There was just something about that feeling, I guess," she began. "The wind whipping my face and hair – made me feel free, I guess, freer than anything," Indie explained.

"That sounds nice," Sookie remarked, almost in surprise. She laid a plate of steaming pancakes in front of Indie before returning to the counter for her own. Indie nodded, immediately cutting into the stack as Sookie settled opposite her.

The two young women ate in comfortable silence, Indie making noises of clear delight of the food in front of her. Sookie grinned.

"Thank you for making breakfast," Indie commented, carrying her dirty dishes to the sink. "I'll do the washing up,"

"Oh, there's no need," Sookie argued weakly, even as she leisurely continued to eat her breakfast. She made no move to stop Indie as she began to run the hot water in the sink.

"What are your plans for the day?" Indie asked casually, trying to keep up a conversation with the blonde.

"Oh, I have to work, but I don't have to leave until about two. I'll probably clean or sunbathe until then," Sookie answered, picking idly at the last scraps on her plate. "What about you?" she returned, standing to bring her empty plate to the brunette.

"Probably just work. I have my computer all set up – I guess I can check in with my editors before deciding on a new topic," Indie answered, accepting Sookie's dirty plate.

"You don't want to go out? You said the other day that you're not very productive when you're working by yourself," Sookie suggested.

Indie shrugged. "There's not really anywhere else to go beside Merlotte's. And I'm thinking it's best that I stay away from there for a while," she answered and Sookie nodded in acknowledgment. "Anyway, I did want to dig into Eric's past a little, see who I'm dealing with here, and I don't like to run background checks in public. People might see," Indie continued, waving a soapy hand nonchalantly.

Sookie leaned against the side of the sink next to her. "I'm not sure that's a good idea, Indie. Eric's dangerous, if he finds out you're looking into him…" she said, a worried expression crossing the blonde's face.

"Oh, Sook," Indie murmured, almost affectionately. "I know he's doing the same to me. I'll be 100% shocked if I walk in there and he _doesn't_ have a complete file on me. And well, I don't like not knowing anything about the person I'm negotiating with," she explained.

Sookie was hesitant but couldn't find fault with her logic. After a few minutes of idle chatter, Sookie went upstairs to get dressed. Indie finished with the dishes, dried them, and stacked them carefully on the counter.

Indie left the kitchen and headed for the stairs. Once she'd reached the guest room Sookie had so generously provided, she picked up her phone, quickly selected a contact, and then brought it to her ear.

After exactly six rings, the call was picked up. " _Belinda?_ " a woman's voice answered.

"Hi, Mom." Indie said quietly, sitting at the desk.

There was rustling on the other end. " _Just a moment, honey,_ " her mother said quickly. " _I need to take this, it's my daughter. Please excuse me,_ " Lisa Prince stated to whoever was with her, accompanied by inaudible assurances as she left the room.

Indie could hear the clack of her mother's heels against the floor as she left the room, to find a private space where they wouldn't be overheard. " _It's so good to hear your voice, honey,_ " Lisa said, voice warm as a door audibly closed.

Indie closed her eyes. "Yeah, it's good to hear yours too, Mom," she returned, clearing her throat.

" _I don't suppose I can convince you to come home and visit. Or at least tell me where you are so I can come to you,_ " her mother requested, a slight reproachful tone entering her voice. " _I love you so much, Belinda, but it's been nearly two years since I've actually seen your face, ever since-_ "

"That's what I called about, actually," Indie cut in, before her mother could continue. "I was planning to come home and visit in a couple days. Two days, actually," she added.

There was a loud intake of air on the other end. " _Really?! Oh, honey, that would be just wonderful! Do you need airfare or anything-_ " Lisa began to question.

"No, no, Mom. I already bought tickets, I fly out two days from now. I just wanted to, you know, let you know that I was coming, and that I'm bringing a friend-" Indie told her, only for her mother to interrupt. It was sort of a pattern, honestly.

" _A friend, Belinda? Who are you bringing?_ " Lisa asked.

"It's just a girl that I've known for a little while. Her name's Sookie, she's been good to me, and things have been a little hot here lately, so I thought getting her away from all of it for a little while would be good for her," Indie explained.

" _More like you want a buffer between you and your father and I,_ " Lisa retorted knowingly. " _She doesn't know what happened, does she?_ " she asked.

Indie blew her breath out her nose. "No, Mom. She doesn't know. She'll find out when we get there, I'm sure. I just, I can't have this conversation right now," she said, trying to stamp down the immediate swells of panic in her throat.

Her mother sighed. " _Alright, honey. We don't have to talk about it now. But we're going to **have**_ _to. I don't want to wait another two years to see you again,_ " Lisa informed her daughter, sounding vaguely hurt.

It was Indie's turn to sigh. "Mom, you have to know I didn't leave because of you. Or Dad, for that matter. It's just, after what happened, after she was gone, I couldn't stand to be there. Even if you and Dad were with me. I just had to get away," she explained, feeling tears begin to burn at the back of her eyes, and the lump in her throat thickening.

After a few moments of silence, her mother's reply came. " _I understand, honey. Are you ready to come home, then?_ "

"No," Indie answered quickly. "But I'm doing it anyway. I just have this feeling that I have to do it, and do it now," she explained.

" _I see. Have you told your father?_ " Lisa asked.

"No. Don't tell him, okay? I think I'll just surprise him," Indie replied.

Lisa sighed again. " _Alright. Try not to give him a heart attack,_ "

"I won't. I'll see you soon, Mom,"

" _Alright. I love you, Belinda,_ "

"Love you too, Mom," Indie whispered, before hitting the disconnect button. She laid the phone down to the side, and put her head in her hands for a few moments. After some deep breaths, she straightened, opened her laptop, and began her search on one Eric Northman.

* * *

 **Thank you for the reviews! Please continue to review!**


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Indie didn't surface from her investigation until nearly midnight, when her phone rang. At some point, her research shifted from Eric Northman to her next piece to looking for another place to rent. She liked Sookie a lot, but the house was a little run-down – and Indie didn't have the same attachment to it that Sookie did.

"Hello," she answered without looking at the phone's screen.

" _Cass, it's me,_ " Sookie greeted peppily, the use of her alias signaling that Sookie wasn't alone.

"What's up, Sook?"

" _I just wanted to let you know that I'll be staying at Bill's for the night. I'll be home in the morning,"_ Sookie informed her.

"Alright. Thanks for letting me know," Indie replied, eyes straying to the corner of her computer screen as an email popped up. A certain nocturnal contact had finally gotten back to her, and she typed out a quick response.

There was a pregnant pause before Sookie replied. " _Find anything…interesting on the project you were talking about?_ " she asked curiously. The only project Indie had discussed with her was the research on Eric, so she could only be alluding to that. It interested her, though, that Sookie was so carefully vague in Bill's presence. So far, Indie wasn't a big fan of him.

"Nothing I didn't already know. There's one last lead for me to follow, I'll let you know what I find out in the morning,"

" _Be careful, Cass._ " Sookie said with a worried tone, before they bid each other goodbye.

As soon as Indie hung up on Sookie, she quickly selected a contact from her phonebook and hit the green button. The phone rang exactly twice before it was picked up. " _Belinda._ " The voice remarked lightly.

Indie rolled her eyes. Richard Harper was the one person she knew that always insisted on using her full name. "Richie. How are you?"

" _Still immortal and beautiful. You? You're staying out of trouble, right? You're safe?_ " Richard asked.

"I'm fine. I'm just…dealing with a little leak. I was curious if you've heard of a vampire named Eric Northman?" she suggested. While Richard was relatively young vampire – he _was_ only a few years older than Indie – he was incredibly well-connected. He was a business-man, always had his ear to the ground for interesting tidbits that could benefit him, or their newspaper. Richard was the numbers man for the Apollonian Press, the man running everything behind the scenes so people like Indie could stick to simply writing.

Richard took in an unnecessary breath. " _That's not a vampire you want to play with, Belinda. He's old, well over a thousand years old. He has a reputation for being ruthless. What's going on, Belinda?_ " he questioned, taking on a worried tone.

Indie sighed. "He discovered my identity. I was using his bar to find sources for my last piece, and he tracked me down. Let's just say that when he found me, I was in a bit of a pickle. He got me out of it, but he bargained my name out of it," she explained, glossing over her near-death experience.

Richard swore under his breath. " _Tell me you got him to sign an NDA, please, Belinda,"_ he pleaded.

"Not yet. I see him tomorrow night. I was hoping you might know something to aid me in negotiations,"

" _I've never met him personally. But I've heard that he's an honest businessman, but keen. You won't be able to trick him. The best thing you can do is treat him just like everyone else._ _ **Respectfully**_ _, mind you._ " Richard suggested, grumbling slightly at the end.

"Are you sure?"

 _"_ _Yes. Flatter too much and he may feel he's being tricked. Treat him like any other business arrangement and he may just be impressed at your moxie,_ "

Indie blinked. "Thank you, Richie. I think I've got what I need," she said.

 _"_ _Please call me and let me know you've survived this meeting."_ Richard requested.

"I'll be home in two days. If I'm not in the office on day three, you'll have reason to worry," Indie replied before swiftly saying goodbye and hanging up.

Richard was never one of Indie's closest friends in college, when the Apollonian Press had been just an idea, but now he was the only one she spoke to. When she was writing a piece that included vampires, she always checked in to confirm what she'd discovered during her research. She could never use him as her source, though, because she was loath to reveal him as a vampire to the public and endanger him. No one outside of the founding members of the newspaper knew he was a vampire (aside from the vampire community).

Indie set down her phone and scrawled a few notes onto her legal pad. Every detail of her meeting with Eric must be planned – from what she wore, to what she said, and carried into the meeting. She quite liked Richard's idea of treating this meeting as if it was nothing unusual or important – she was sure to take Eric by surprise.

* * *

 **The Next Morning**

* * *

It was well after ten when Sookie finally strolled in, looking mussed and unhappy. Indie had only just come down, sitting down with coffee and cereal. The disgruntled expression on Sookie's face had frozen her – so unused to seeing anything but cheer on the blonde's face. "Everything alright, Sookie?" Indie asked curiously as the waitress slumped into the seat opposite her.

"Bill and I fought," Sookie drawled. "Nothing terrible happened, I guess. But he's driving me crazy!" Indie regarded her with a raised eyebrow. "I'm coming with you to your parents'." Sookie said suddenly, resolutely. "I need a break from Bill," she added, leaning back in her chair.

"Then you're in luck," Indie said, pausing for dramatic emphasis. "I booked the tickets yesterday morning," she continued, the blonde swiping at her playfully.

"Did you find anything on Eric?" Sookie asked curiously, sitting opposite Indie at the kitchen table.

"Not much," Indie admitted. "I could only find documentation after he came to this area in the late 1980's. Fangtasia used to be a video store, believe it or not,"

"No way!" Sookie gushed.

"Yeah, it was only converted two years before the Great Revelation."

"That's crazy! Did you find anything personal on him?"

Indie shook her head. "No, not really. I made a call to a friend I trust," she explained.

"Is your friend a vampire?" Sookie wondered, brow furrowed.

"Yes, and the managing partner of the press," she sighed. "He wasn't able to tell me anything I didn't know,"

"And what do you know?"

"Not lots, but he's old. He's the Sheriff, he's got power. I spoke to some of the vampires in his area at Fangtasia. He inspires much fear and respect – they regard him as a fair man," Indie said.

Sookie made a disgruntled noise. "Bill hates him. You best be careful, Indie," the blonde said, unable to keep the worry from her voice.

"Oh, I know," Indie replied, blank gaze focusing on the light outside the window.

* * *

 **The Following Night**

* * *

At around ten o'clock, Indie climbed out of her car in the Fangtasia parking lot. She had dressed simply in a pair of jeans, a flowy, lavender gossamer fabric top; with a leather jacket on top. She grabbed her bag out of the back before plucking her chocolate milkshake out of the drink-holder. Indie strode towards the club, past the line without casting them a glance as they protested her "line-cutting" to approach Pam.

The blonde vampire's eyes fixed on her with feigned disinterest. "You're wearing my favorite color," Pam purred, eying Indie as she let her in.

"Am I?" Indie murmured. "I'll be sure to keep that in mind for the future," she continued over her shoulder, striding inside.

Once inside Fangtasia, she glimpsed Eric on his throne for but a moment before he was suddenly in front of her. "I have been waiting most impatiently for you to arrive," he said, arctic eyes pulsing with heat.

Indie broke the "heat" of the silence with an obnoxious slurp from her milkshake. The vampire looked taken aback. "Am I late? I was unaware we'd set a specific time," she asked.

After a moment of staring, Eric answered. "No," he admitted. "We did not," he turned and gestured over his shoulder for her to follow.

Indie fell into step behind him and found herself in his office a few moments later. "Shall we get straight to business?" she asked as Eric sat behind his desk.

"Of course," he said, leaning back in his chair.

Indie set her milkshake on the corner of his desk to dig through her bag. Eric eyed it curiously, lip curling up. She drew out a folder and handed it to Eric. "In cases where someone has discovered my true identity, this is what I have been authorized to offer," she remarked, settling back in the chair opposite his desk and folding her hands demurely in her lap.

Eric accepted the folder tentatively. "I did not think such things were necessary," he remarked. His surprise at not merely being given what he wanted was palpable. Especially since Indie owed him her life.

"I'm afraid I must be cautious. Please read it," Indie requested.

Eric dipped his head in acknowledgment and opened the folder, beginning to skim through the contract for exchanging information. "This is…very vague," he said.

"It is left to my discretion, of course. As a founder of the Apollonian Press, I am trusted to protect the brand." Indie explained.

Eric dropped the folder onto his desk, leaning back in his chair. "So what is the point of this?" he asked, gesturing to it.

"It is merely a jumping off point. But no deal can be made if you and your progeny do not sign a non-disclosure agreement to ensure you will not reveal my identity." Indie said, drawing another folder from her bag.

Eric looked irritated as he accepted another folder. "Is this your method? Annoy the other party into conceding? I saved your life. You _owe_ me," he pointed out.

Indie rolled her eyes, looking unimpressed, slurping the milkshake through the straw. The vampire only looked angrier. "No, Eric," she said. "For us to have a mutually-beneficial partnership, we must be able to trust each other. And without the NDA signed, I cannot feel safe in this partnership. I need to know you will not endanger my brand," Indie continued.

Eric sat back, irritation gone from his expression. Instead, his eyes were evaluating her – curious. "You are an interesting human." He said.

"Thanks, I think," Indie replied, the cup dangling from her grip.

"You do not even mention the danger to your own life," Eric said.

"Pardon?" she said, raising an eyebrow.

"Even if we disregard the most recent attempt on your life… you have many enemies that wish you harm for what you've exposed. You'd benefit from a protector," Eric said.

"A protector?" Indie asked, her brows raising higher. "And that would be you?" she said, as if surprised.

"If you'll be mine," Eric offered.

Indie took another long sip of her shake. His eyes lingered on her throat as the muscles moved. "Let's keep it professional. Set our terms. Though, I will take your offer seriously," she promised, her expression earnest.

Eric audibly sighed, but he nodded after a moment. "What are your proposed terms?" he asked.

"An exchange of information. As long as it does not compromise my journalistic integrity, I can look out for your interests and inform you of anything that may pertain to you or your…people," Indie suggested.

"And what would you ask of me?" Eric asked.

"Confidentiality," Indie replied simply.

"And that's all?" he said.

"That's all I need."

"Agreed, then." Eric said, holding his hand out to shake.

"Agreed." Indie echoed, shaking his hand. She sipped her milkshake, eyeing him. "I'm leaving town tomorrow morning with Sookie-"

"-out of the question." Eric interrupted.

Indie frowned. "I wasn't asking. Eric, you and I are partners now-"

"Friends."

"Friends don't control each other," Indie pointed out.

"Don't they?"

Indie huffed, making Eric smirked. It was the first expression of emotion she'd shown since she'd arrived. "If you'd let me return to my original line of thought…" she said. Eric gestured for her to go ahead. "Why thank you," Indie said sarcastically.

"My pleasure."

"So, as I was saying, Sookie and I are leaving tomorrow to visit my parents for a few days, at most a week," Indie said.

"Visit implies a return," Eric pointed out.

"Yes, it does," she acknowledged.

"Don't tease me," he growled.

"I wouldn't dare," Indie chuckled. "I promise to return. There, does that make you feel better?" she says, and Eric agrees, looking amused. "We can move on from business if you and Pam sign the NDAs," Indie suggested.

Eric rolled his eyes, sliding the papers out of the folder. A few moments later, Pam entered. "Yes, master?" she asked dryly.

"Ms. King requires us to sign an NDA or there will be no… friendship between us…" Eric said. Indie flashed him a sharp look. The expression of amusement didn't fade from his features.

"And you agreed to it?" Pam asked, glancing at Indie with a grudging respect.

Indie crossed her legs and lifted an eyebrow, waiting. "If we are to benefit from Ms. King's assets, we must also protect her brand," Eric spoke as he signed the document and slid it to Pam.

" _Right_. Miss King's success is _our_ success," Pam said sarcastically, signing off the document and sliding it back to Eric. Eric stowed it away into the folder and handed it to Indie – she slid it safely into her bag with a murmured thank you.

Then Pam left and it was Eric and Indie again. "I'll leave the other contract for you to peruse. Perhaps we can make it more specific as to what you require of me, and I of you," she suggested.

Eric looked at her strangely, his eyes focused. "You are a strange human," he said.

Indie gave him a look. "I'll take that as a compliment," she said.

"It was intended as one," Eric said.

"Do tell,"

"Most humans cannot rationally interact with us. It is either fear or lust. You and I have been able to talk and negotiate without dramatics. It's been refreshing," Eric explained.

"There is a time and place for lust or fear," she began, determinedly sucking the last dregs out of the milkshake. She smirked as Eric shifted in his seat. "But it is not in business,"

"And now that our business is concluded…" Eric trailed off, standing and walking around the desk to approach her.

"…time for lust," Indie concluded, standing slowly.

Eric stood close enough that she brushed up against him as she stood, her head only nearly reaching his shoulder. "What did you have in mind?" he asked, voice low, almost eager.

"A chase, perhaps?" Indie suggested. "I can't make it _too_ easy on you, can I?" she said.

It is clear by Eric's expression that he was intrigued. "You want to run…" he began, clearly taken by the idea.

"You'll have to catch me. Do you think you can?" Indie teased, a grin crossing her features.

Eric growled, dipping down to pull her in for a rough kiss, before he led her out of his office and out the back door. "Where should we go?" he asked.

"The woods. Without any obstacles, it'll be too easy for you," Indie suggested, as if it were a sport. Perhaps it was to her.

Eric pulled her tight to his body, as if he were about to run or something like that. "No car?" she asked.

He shook his head. "It'll take too long," he said, taking her arms and wrapping them around his waist. "Hold on tight," he warns.

Without hesitating, Indie tightened her grip on him, and then Eric began to lift off the ground, shooting off into the sky. Indie shrieked in surprise, before beginning to laugh in delight as they flew. All the air rushing about them, nothing holding them up or down – it was better than _running_.

All too soon, in Indie's opinion, Eric landed them right outside the woods in Bon Temps. "Did you like that?" he asked, grinning. Indie was still laughing, nodding in wordless delight.

Then, without warning, she darted off into the woods. She could hear Eric laugh behind her. "You have a two minute head start – if I can wait that long," he called after her.

Indie kept running. It was her favorite thing to do – or, maybe not, since she'd just _flown_. After a few minutes, she knew Eric was following her. Toying with her, she guessed. Because she was hearing branches break, leaves crunch, as if underfoot – and well, Eric could fly. He was only making those noises so she'd hear them.

Then suddenly, she was pressed up against a tree. Eric had caught her, arms wrapped tightly around her as he plundered her mouth with his own. Indie gave into the kiss, reciprocating just as fiercely. Then she broke free, ducking under his arm and running off, the air filling with her laughter.

This time, Eric exaggerated the chase even more. He growled and snarled behind her, appearing in front of her several times to make her divert her path. Indie was having too much fun, but she was tiring of the chase. She'd yield herself, but only once she found a relatively comfortable spot to do it in.

A few minutes later, Indie found a soft patch of grass and plopped down. "Oh no!" she cried in a deliberate voice. "My ankle! I twisted it! The vampire's going to eat me up!" she called.

Eric appeared at the edge of the patch, grinning down at her. "In more than one way," he promised, darting at her. Indie flinched as he went for the neck. It took her a second to realize only human teeth nip at her throat and she began to laugh. She sat up, Eric leaning back to allow her. She eased the jacket from her shoulders, and then reached out to do the same with his.

Then he kissed her, hand snaking underneath that lavender blouse, and Indie did nothing to stop him.

Later, as they lay bare in the patch of grass, Eric offered her his blood. "Why?" Indie asked him.

"So I can feel if you are in danger," he answered.

"I've already had your blood," Indie pointed out.

"But the bond only works if it's an exchange."

"So you require my blood," she said, waggling a brow at him.

Eric only grinned wolfishly. "I do desire it, yes," he said.

"As long as you don't take enough to weaken me," Indie sighed, offering her wrist.

"Only a few mouthfuls, I swear… and the wrist, well, it's not exactly an intimate place for friends as intimate as us," Eric said, and in a flash, his head was between her legs. Before he bit her, he instead bit his own wrist, holding it out to her mouth.

Reluctantly, Indie closed her mouth around the wound. At that moment, she felt Eric's fangs bite into the soft flesh of her thigh. She gasped against his wrist. "Drink," he said, raising his head from her thigh for but a moment. Then she felt his fangs settle back inside her skin. So Indie drank from him, savoring the strangely delicious taste of the blood until the wound healed.

After that, well, Indie was vibrating with desire. Eric was easily convinced. They spent another hour rolling around in the dirt.

It was well after two in the morning when Eric alighted with Indie in the back alley behind Fangtasia. They were both dirty, with leaves and twigs in their hair. There was a certain fondness between them now, Eric's arm resting around her waist as they went inside the bar through the back door.

Indie collected her bag, and kissed Eric soundly before Pam came in. "You always bag the good ones," the blonde pouted once she'd caught sight of them.

Eric grinned. Indie rolled her eyes. "Maybe next time, Pam," she called.

Pam's eyebrows rose. " _Really_?" she purred.

Indie winked, turning back to Eric. She tugged on a lock of his hair. "I hate your hair. You should cut it," she said, bestowing one more peck on his cheek before she left.

By the time she reached her car, Eric was already standing beside it. "You think I'd let you leave that easily?" he drawled. Indie raised her eyebrows. "I require your phone number, Belinda." He said, taking out his phone.

Indie rolled her eyes, stepping forward and taking the phone to type in her digits. "You can just text me to give me your number. I've got an early flight, Eric. I need some sleep," she said.

"I will see you in a week, Oracle." Eric said, and then suddenly he was gone.

Indie shrugged and got in her care. Time to get back to Sookie's and finally sleep.

* * *

 **Review please!**


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